My alarm jolted me from my sleep. With my racing heart I picked up my phone from the table beside my bed. It was 4:15 am and the last alarm for the day. How had I slept all through my previous alarms I asked myself? Sighing, I laid on my bed unwilling to get down and start my day.
What is there to wake up to? What am I even supposed to do today? What’s the point of waking up every day and doing the same thing I do daily? To what extent? When does this even end? Who am I doing it for? Myself? Fuck off!
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For months, I’ve figuratively been floating. Like, I show up physically but mentally I’m absent. I smile, laugh, do all the necessities of a functional social being but deep in my core I’m stone cold. No iota of feeling or essence exists anymore.
Being waiting for a breakthrough, praying for a miracle, anything at all. Something to pull me out of this bottomless pit I’m slowly sinking into, snap me out of this trace I’m loosing myself in. This darkness that threatens to overpower me.
You know what sucks? No one sees the pain behind my smile. Never knew I was this good an actor till these past few months. How I’ve cleverly hidden the turmoil that rocks my heart should be studied in institutions.
I made efforts. Yes, I did. I reached out to some people. But somehow, these days everyone is fighting a different battle. And the last thing I want is to be a burden to the next person. So when I’m told things like, “you’ve been sad?, me too!” I just smile and keep it moving.
A baby wails in the distance, and I jolt back to reality. It’s 4:47am. I better get down. It’s the last working day of the week can as well get it over with.